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Page ix
... Morning XCIX . The Lady's Song C. Orsames ' Song CI . Song · CII . On the Assumption • Sir John Suckling . 137 · Sir John Suckling . 138 • CIII . To Lucasta . Going beyond the Seas CIV . To Lucasta . Going to the Wars · CV . To Althea ...
... Morning XCIX . The Lady's Song C. Orsames ' Song CI . Song · CII . On the Assumption • Sir John Suckling . 137 · Sir John Suckling . 138 • CIII . To Lucasta . Going beyond the Seas CIV . To Lucasta . Going to the Wars · CV . To Althea ...
Page 38
... morning gray , Decked with the ruddy glister of her love ; Is fair Samela . Like lovely Thetis on a calmed day , Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancies move ; Shines fair Samela . Her tresses gold , her eyes like glassy streams , Her ...
... morning gray , Decked with the ruddy glister of her love ; Is fair Samela . Like lovely Thetis on a calmed day , Whenas her brightness Neptune's fancies move ; Shines fair Samela . Her tresses gold , her eyes like glassy streams , Her ...
Page 40
... morning - singer's swelling throat . Ah ! when she riseth from her blissful bed , She comforts all the world as doth the sun , And at her sight the night's foul vapour's fled ; When she is set , the gladsome day is done . O glorious sun ...
... morning - singer's swelling throat . Ah ! when she riseth from her blissful bed , She comforts all the world as doth the sun , And at her sight the night's foul vapour's fled ; When she is set , the gladsome day is done . O glorious sun ...
Page 81
... morning blown ; Yet , yet I doubt he is not known , And fear much more , that more of him be shown . G But he hath eyes so round and bright , As BEN JONSON . 81 A Nymph's Passion LVII Ben Jonson Ben Jonson Ben Jonson 888.
... morning blown ; Yet , yet I doubt he is not known , And fear much more , that more of him be shown . G But he hath eyes so round and bright , As BEN JONSON . 81 A Nymph's Passion LVII Ben Jonson Ben Jonson Ben Jonson 888.
Page 114
... morning's dew , Ne'er to be found again . LXXX . THE MAD MAID'S SONG . G OOD morrow to the day so fair ; Good morning , sir , to you : Good morrow to mine own torn hair Bedabbled with the dew . Good morning to this primrose too ; Good ...
... morning's dew , Ne'er to be found again . LXXX . THE MAD MAID'S SONG . G OOD morrow to the day so fair ; Good morning , sir , to you : Good morrow to mine own torn hair Bedabbled with the dew . Good morning to this primrose too ; Good ...
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Common terms and phrases
adieu Love Anthony Wood beauty BEN JONSON best fits birds blow breast breath bright brow cold County Guy Cymbeline Cynthia's Revels dead dear death delight doth earth England's Helicon eyes fancy fear fits a little flowers give gone grave hath heart heaven Honour lady leaves light live look love anew Love's lovers Lucasta lulla lullaby lyric maid Master Constable Melicertus mind morning ne'er never Nice Valour night nonny numbers o'er old familiar faces pain Phillada flouts Phillis pity poem Queen roses Sally shine sighs sight sing Sir Walter Scott sleep smile SONG sorrow soul spring stars tears tell thee thine things Thomas Dekker Thomas Farnaby thou art thou dost Thou hast Thou lovest amiss thought toil unto untrue Love verse wanton waves weep William Haughton winds wings winter WINTHROP MACKWORTH PRAED youth
Popular passages
Page 130 - THE glories of our blood and state Are shadows, not substantial things ; There is no armour against Fate ; Death lays his icy hand on kings : Sceptre and Crown Must tumble down, And in the dust be equal made With the poor crooked scythe and spade.
Page 198 - SHE was a phantom of delight When first she gleamed upon my sight ; A lovely apparition, sent To be a moment's ornament : Her eyes as stars of twilight fair ; Like twilight's too her dusky hair ; But all things else about her drawn From May-time and the cheerful dawn ; A dancing shape, an image gay, To haunt, to startle, and way-lay.
Page 146 - Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind That from the nunnery Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind, To war and arms I fly. True, a new mistress now I chase, The first foe in the field; And with a stronger faith embrace A sword, a horse, a shield. Yet this inconstancy is such As you too shall adore; I could not love thee, dear, so much, Loved I not honor more.
Page 61 - Orpheus with his lute made trees, And the mountain tops that freeze, Bow themselves when he did sing ; To his music plants and flowers Ever sprung, as sun and showers There had made a lasting spring. Every thing that heard him play, Even the billows of the sea, Hung their heads, and then lay by. In sweet music is such art, Killing care and grief of heart Fall asleep, or hearing die.
Page 72 - A HYMN TO GOD THE FATHER. W ILT Thou forgive that sin where I begun, Which was my sin, though it were done before ? Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run And do run still, though still I do deplore ? When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done ; For I have more.
Page 201 - Will no one tell me what she sings? — Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow For old, unhappy, far-off things, And battles long ago: Or is it some more humble lay, Familiar matter of to-day? Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, That has been, and may be again?
Page 80 - DRINK to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine. The thirst that from the soul doth rise Doth ask a drink divine; But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.
Page 75 - QUEEN and huntress, chaste and fair, Now the sun is laid to sleep, Seated in thy silver chair, State in wonted manner keep: Hesperus entreats thy light, Goddess, excellently bright! Earth, let not thy envious shade Dare itself to interpose: Cynthia's shining orb was made Heaven to clear when day did close: Bless us then with wished sight, Goddess, excellently bright!
Page 218 - The spirits of your fathers Shall start from every wave— For the deck it was their field of fame, And Ocean was their grave...
Page 87 - Every thing did banish moan, Save the nightingale alone : She, poor bird, as all forlorn, Lean'd her breast up-till a thorn, And there sung the dolefull'st ditty, That to hear it was great pity : 'Fie, fie, fie...